FIC: Servants (5-9/?)
Title: Servants (5-9/?)
Fandom: Deep Space Nine
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,904 (total, including 1-4)
Summary: The Vorta, one drabble at a time. [Keevan, Deyos, Kilana & Keevan, Borath, Luaran]
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine is the property of Paramount Pictures.
Author's Note: I'm writing one Vorta drabble a day, so look for there to be at least nine of these (one for each named Vorta), plus however many more I feel like writing. The Kilana/Keevan drabble was written on, and for, Valentine's Day.
V. Keevan
Keevan's Federation prison cell is the most comfortable place he's ever lived. He isn't supposed to be living there, of course - he's supposed to have activated his termination implant so that the Federation can't interrogate him and so his next clone can be activated to take his place on some Jem'Hadar fighter. Another loyal servant of the Dominion. Except the Federation's interrogations are hardly worthy of the name - oh, there's the usual sensory and sleep deprivation, time disorientation, and attempts to wound his pride and ego, but there's nothing particularly unpleasant about it - and he's never felt the all-consuming loyalty to the Dominion that his predecessor did.
There comes a point - rather quickly, if truth be told - that he realizes he's perfectly content to spend the rest of this war in his cell, out of the fighting, away from the Jem'Hadar, and safe from a meaningless, messy death in battle. It isn't that he likes the Federation. Quite the contrary; it's a weak, spineless government, hamstrung by its own lofty, ridiculous ideals and destined to lose this war. Keevan has no sympathy for them. They know now what the Dominion is capable of, that it's crushing them even without its reinforcements and that once Central Operations opens the Anomaly the end will come swiftly, but still they refuse to do what they should. He has no respect for them and he hopes the Dominion wins this war - he just hopes that it's won without him. And when it's over, and the Federation and its ideals are yoked and subjugated by the Dominion, Keevan hopes he's far, far away. For all of its insipid principles, the Federation's interrogations are infinitely preferable to the debriefing he'd face from the Dominion. Exile, when it becomes necessary, will be even better.
~
VI. Deyos
At first, Deyos is irritated that he's been assigned as the supervisor of Internment Camp 371. Too close to the Anomaly, and he's never met an Alpha Quadrant species that he likes. Cardassians and Romulans - what unlikely partners, and yet the more he's forced to deal with them, the more he thinks they're perfectly suited to each other. It's too bad, he muses, that each respective government hadn't committed more resources and manpower to their doomed attempt to destroy the Founders' homeworld. But then, Cardassians and Romulans are arrogant - one of their common traits - and their arrogance may have saved them this time. They still have fight in them; fight that the Dominion will have to crush once war inevitably breaks out.
The Dominion isn't arrogant. The Dominion doesn't hold back on the assumption that its machinations have been clever enough to take the enemy by surprise - even if they have. The Dominion gathers information and plans, and when it's ready it sends wave after wave of troops - that's why the Dominion never loses.
The arrogance does eventually seem to leave the Cardassians and Romulans at Internment Camp 371, though, especially once they see how the Jem'Hadar entertain themselves. Deyos drops a few vague threats to some of the more…troublesome prisoners that they may just find themselves in the fighting ring once the Jem'Hadar beat the spirit out of their stronger fellow inmates, and the Cardassians get even grayer while the Romulans look uneasy.
That's when he starts to enjoy himself.
~
VII. Kilana & Keevan
Kilana prefers not to get romantically involved with other Vorta. She loves her people-platonically. But they don't make the best lovers, and there are two quadrants full of other species to choose from. It was Weyoun, really. Weyoun's second clone, who might have broken her heart, or maybe that was just melodrama. In any case, if she's going to get involved, she chooses someone from another race. She likes humans, especially now that the Federation-Dominion War is a distant memory to them; something their grandparents may have fought in, but not them.
And even if she were to get involved with another Vorta, Keevan would be the last one she'd choose. So she can't explain why she's sharing a bottle of Terran wine with him on the Federation station Deep Space Nine, except that he asked if she would and she said yes. He's as smug as ever but some of the insipidness has gone - well, going through a few clones will give a Vorta some maturity, and Keevan is apparently no exception.
The wine certainly isn't strong enough to cause even the slightest amount of inebriation. She wishes it was. Then she could blame what happens on that - the fact that when their hands brush, it sends a tingle from the tips of her ears to her feet; that when Keevan casually takes her hand she doesn't snatch it away. Vorta don't do a very good job at seducing one another, and she's vaguely amused at the idea that that's what he's doing - if that's what he's doing - though less amused at herself that she's letting it happen.
But he just lightly holds her hand in his while they talk. She's on her way to take up a post on the staff of the Dominion ambassador to the Federation. He's on his way back to Dominion space from the Klingon Empire. It was lucky chance - yes, lucky, she grudgingly admits to herself - that they encountered each other on the Promenade.
Part of her keeps waiting for the night to turn into more than it is. She doesn't know if she wants it to or not, and that indecision keeps her on a kind of delicious edge of anticipation that she recognizes for what it is. Nothing happens, except that eventually, regretfully, Keevan says he should be going.
There's a still moment between them, and then she kisses him swiftly, chastely - just to say, really, that if she's going to do what she doesn't do and get involved with another Vorta, maybe he wouldn't be the worst choice, after all.
~
VIII. Borath
It may have been Eris who made first contact, but it's Borath who really gets inside the humans' minds. Not just the humans - there's a Trill, Joined, her symbiont's lifetimes' worth of memories reminding him of a Vorta, and a Romulan. Getting inside their minds is literal, of course, with the simulated reality. Borath has always been a scientist and the fact that he's been selected for this experiment delights him. When he got word that a reassignment was coming his way, he'd been concerned that he'd be moved from Kurill Prime's main cloning facility to a field supervisor position. With the Federation's incursions into the Gamma Quadrant becoming increasingly bold, more and more Vorta are being assigned to attack ships. Even Eris, he's heard, is now a field supervisor.
Borath, though, prefers the quiet order of a lab to the chaos of battle. He doesn't enjoy being in command of the Jem'Hadar - their minds are so rigid, so fixated on battle and bloodshed. There's no discussion with them, no give-and-take of scientific dialogue, no diplomacy, just the single-minded purpose with which they were engineered. He's often wondered what sort of creature the Founders built the Jem'Hadar from - was there any such being, or are the Jem'Hadar an entirely invented race; the Founders' idea of a monster? Vorta are accustomed to Jem'Hadar but they are a frightening people, with their horns and perpetual forbidding glares, and their tubes of ketracel white gurgling in their throats. To think, the only thing keeping an entire army of killers loyal is a tube of amino acids.
These Starfleet people aren't afraid enough of the Dominion - that's the one thing Borath learns, over and over, from the experiment. They've seen how the Jem'Hadar fight but they're defiant, and he has a feeling that they'll go to great lengths to keep the Dominion out of the Alpha Quadrant. If they do close the Anomaly-well, in two hundred years, the Dominion's borders will stretch all the way to Federation space, and then they won't need the Anomaly. Borath hopes he sees that day. Scientific curiosity, after all.
~
IX. Luaran
There's something mildly troubling about the fact that the Dominion needs the Breen to win the war. Luaran, merely a field supervisor, isn't privy to any special information - just the same platitude and propaganda-laden dispatches from Central Operations that everyone else is - but it's clear that someone very high up doesn't trust the Jem'Hadar to win the fight against the Federation. Why else would all Jem'Hadar fighters be receiving the Breen energy dampening weapon? It will help; there's no doubt about that, but she's never seen such an undercurrent of…desperation in her superiors. The Cardassian Union was a strategic acquisition two years ago - the alliance with the Breen is a necessity. Luaran can barely contemplate the idea of the Dominion losing a war. In fact, she can't. It's inconceivable; the prospect is so ludicrous that she almost laughs. The Jem'Hadar on the bridge with her would take no notice if she did.
But her ship is docked at a Cardassian repair facility while that Breen weapon is installed, and that tells her the inconceivable, terrifying truth - the Founders think that the Dominion might lose this war, and Luaran has no point of reference for that event. She knows what the Dominion does to worlds that resist it. If the unthinkable happens…will this be her last clone? Will the Vorta, the Jem'Hadar, the Founders be exterminated?
Her mind abruptly backs away from that thought. The Breen have been brought into the war to ensure victory for the Dominion. That's the only thing she needs to consider.
Fandom: Deep Space Nine
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,904 (total, including 1-4)
Summary: The Vorta, one drabble at a time. [Keevan, Deyos, Kilana & Keevan, Borath, Luaran]
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine is the property of Paramount Pictures.
Author's Note: I'm writing one Vorta drabble a day, so look for there to be at least nine of these (one for each named Vorta), plus however many more I feel like writing. The Kilana/Keevan drabble was written on, and for, Valentine's Day.
V. Keevan
Keevan's Federation prison cell is the most comfortable place he's ever lived. He isn't supposed to be living there, of course - he's supposed to have activated his termination implant so that the Federation can't interrogate him and so his next clone can be activated to take his place on some Jem'Hadar fighter. Another loyal servant of the Dominion. Except the Federation's interrogations are hardly worthy of the name - oh, there's the usual sensory and sleep deprivation, time disorientation, and attempts to wound his pride and ego, but there's nothing particularly unpleasant about it - and he's never felt the all-consuming loyalty to the Dominion that his predecessor did.
There comes a point - rather quickly, if truth be told - that he realizes he's perfectly content to spend the rest of this war in his cell, out of the fighting, away from the Jem'Hadar, and safe from a meaningless, messy death in battle. It isn't that he likes the Federation. Quite the contrary; it's a weak, spineless government, hamstrung by its own lofty, ridiculous ideals and destined to lose this war. Keevan has no sympathy for them. They know now what the Dominion is capable of, that it's crushing them even without its reinforcements and that once Central Operations opens the Anomaly the end will come swiftly, but still they refuse to do what they should. He has no respect for them and he hopes the Dominion wins this war - he just hopes that it's won without him. And when it's over, and the Federation and its ideals are yoked and subjugated by the Dominion, Keevan hopes he's far, far away. For all of its insipid principles, the Federation's interrogations are infinitely preferable to the debriefing he'd face from the Dominion. Exile, when it becomes necessary, will be even better.
~
VI. Deyos
At first, Deyos is irritated that he's been assigned as the supervisor of Internment Camp 371. Too close to the Anomaly, and he's never met an Alpha Quadrant species that he likes. Cardassians and Romulans - what unlikely partners, and yet the more he's forced to deal with them, the more he thinks they're perfectly suited to each other. It's too bad, he muses, that each respective government hadn't committed more resources and manpower to their doomed attempt to destroy the Founders' homeworld. But then, Cardassians and Romulans are arrogant - one of their common traits - and their arrogance may have saved them this time. They still have fight in them; fight that the Dominion will have to crush once war inevitably breaks out.
The Dominion isn't arrogant. The Dominion doesn't hold back on the assumption that its machinations have been clever enough to take the enemy by surprise - even if they have. The Dominion gathers information and plans, and when it's ready it sends wave after wave of troops - that's why the Dominion never loses.
The arrogance does eventually seem to leave the Cardassians and Romulans at Internment Camp 371, though, especially once they see how the Jem'Hadar entertain themselves. Deyos drops a few vague threats to some of the more…troublesome prisoners that they may just find themselves in the fighting ring once the Jem'Hadar beat the spirit out of their stronger fellow inmates, and the Cardassians get even grayer while the Romulans look uneasy.
That's when he starts to enjoy himself.
~
VII. Kilana & Keevan
Kilana prefers not to get romantically involved with other Vorta. She loves her people-platonically. But they don't make the best lovers, and there are two quadrants full of other species to choose from. It was Weyoun, really. Weyoun's second clone, who might have broken her heart, or maybe that was just melodrama. In any case, if she's going to get involved, she chooses someone from another race. She likes humans, especially now that the Federation-Dominion War is a distant memory to them; something their grandparents may have fought in, but not them.
And even if she were to get involved with another Vorta, Keevan would be the last one she'd choose. So she can't explain why she's sharing a bottle of Terran wine with him on the Federation station Deep Space Nine, except that he asked if she would and she said yes. He's as smug as ever but some of the insipidness has gone - well, going through a few clones will give a Vorta some maturity, and Keevan is apparently no exception.
The wine certainly isn't strong enough to cause even the slightest amount of inebriation. She wishes it was. Then she could blame what happens on that - the fact that when their hands brush, it sends a tingle from the tips of her ears to her feet; that when Keevan casually takes her hand she doesn't snatch it away. Vorta don't do a very good job at seducing one another, and she's vaguely amused at the idea that that's what he's doing - if that's what he's doing - though less amused at herself that she's letting it happen.
But he just lightly holds her hand in his while they talk. She's on her way to take up a post on the staff of the Dominion ambassador to the Federation. He's on his way back to Dominion space from the Klingon Empire. It was lucky chance - yes, lucky, she grudgingly admits to herself - that they encountered each other on the Promenade.
Part of her keeps waiting for the night to turn into more than it is. She doesn't know if she wants it to or not, and that indecision keeps her on a kind of delicious edge of anticipation that she recognizes for what it is. Nothing happens, except that eventually, regretfully, Keevan says he should be going.
There's a still moment between them, and then she kisses him swiftly, chastely - just to say, really, that if she's going to do what she doesn't do and get involved with another Vorta, maybe he wouldn't be the worst choice, after all.
~
VIII. Borath
It may have been Eris who made first contact, but it's Borath who really gets inside the humans' minds. Not just the humans - there's a Trill, Joined, her symbiont's lifetimes' worth of memories reminding him of a Vorta, and a Romulan. Getting inside their minds is literal, of course, with the simulated reality. Borath has always been a scientist and the fact that he's been selected for this experiment delights him. When he got word that a reassignment was coming his way, he'd been concerned that he'd be moved from Kurill Prime's main cloning facility to a field supervisor position. With the Federation's incursions into the Gamma Quadrant becoming increasingly bold, more and more Vorta are being assigned to attack ships. Even Eris, he's heard, is now a field supervisor.
Borath, though, prefers the quiet order of a lab to the chaos of battle. He doesn't enjoy being in command of the Jem'Hadar - their minds are so rigid, so fixated on battle and bloodshed. There's no discussion with them, no give-and-take of scientific dialogue, no diplomacy, just the single-minded purpose with which they were engineered. He's often wondered what sort of creature the Founders built the Jem'Hadar from - was there any such being, or are the Jem'Hadar an entirely invented race; the Founders' idea of a monster? Vorta are accustomed to Jem'Hadar but they are a frightening people, with their horns and perpetual forbidding glares, and their tubes of ketracel white gurgling in their throats. To think, the only thing keeping an entire army of killers loyal is a tube of amino acids.
These Starfleet people aren't afraid enough of the Dominion - that's the one thing Borath learns, over and over, from the experiment. They've seen how the Jem'Hadar fight but they're defiant, and he has a feeling that they'll go to great lengths to keep the Dominion out of the Alpha Quadrant. If they do close the Anomaly-well, in two hundred years, the Dominion's borders will stretch all the way to Federation space, and then they won't need the Anomaly. Borath hopes he sees that day. Scientific curiosity, after all.
~
IX. Luaran
There's something mildly troubling about the fact that the Dominion needs the Breen to win the war. Luaran, merely a field supervisor, isn't privy to any special information - just the same platitude and propaganda-laden dispatches from Central Operations that everyone else is - but it's clear that someone very high up doesn't trust the Jem'Hadar to win the fight against the Federation. Why else would all Jem'Hadar fighters be receiving the Breen energy dampening weapon? It will help; there's no doubt about that, but she's never seen such an undercurrent of…desperation in her superiors. The Cardassian Union was a strategic acquisition two years ago - the alliance with the Breen is a necessity. Luaran can barely contemplate the idea of the Dominion losing a war. In fact, she can't. It's inconceivable; the prospect is so ludicrous that she almost laughs. The Jem'Hadar on the bridge with her would take no notice if she did.
But her ship is docked at a Cardassian repair facility while that Breen weapon is installed, and that tells her the inconceivable, terrifying truth - the Founders think that the Dominion might lose this war, and Luaran has no point of reference for that event. She knows what the Dominion does to worlds that resist it. If the unthinkable happens…will this be her last clone? Will the Vorta, the Jem'Hadar, the Founders be exterminated?
Her mind abruptly backs away from that thought. The Breen have been brought into the war to ensure victory for the Dominion. That's the only thing she needs to consider.